


look at u strawberry blond

by milf_enthusiast



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, minecraft egg wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milf_enthusiast/pseuds/milf_enthusiast
Summary: that toasty, sleepy feeling you have after spending a day in the sun
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	look at u strawberry blond

**Author's Note:**

> oooh mitski lyric title oooogooooo stereotypical queer kid wooooeoo

Everything about Will Solace is warm. His eyes and his skin and his smile and his hands when they rest in mine. His warmth is contagious. The stupidest little things he does make my face heat up to the temperature of the fucking sun.

I used to despise it, the blood that rushes to my face when he addresses me and how my body temp spikes to borderline fever when he touches me. I used to hate warmth. I used to thrive in the cold, or at least I believed I did. Being cold feels like being alone. I used to feel like I was meant to be alone.

I felt warm in Reyna’s arms. I feel warm when she tells me she’s proud of me, and when she locks eyes with me and smiles like she’s the goddamn Mona Lisa. (Avila-Arellano language for “I love you.”)

I felt like I’d been set on fire in Will’s arms. He had dragged me to the camp infirmary, nannying me incessantly for three days. While he was acting like my mother for 36 hours straight I felt like I was a walking forest fire. At the time I thought it was just because he was pissing me off, being so suffocating; but when he finally (reluctantly) discharged me the heat didn’t totally go away. The fire sure as Hades came back whenever he talked to me in the following weeks, even if our conversations were just arguments about whether or not I can beat up people who call me ‘Neeks’. 

That warmth sat in my stomach every hour of every day, and it fucking pissed me off. I wasn’t used to it. Over the years I had become a close friend of the cold.

I don’t mind the heat so much anymore. Maybe I’m just growing out of being alone. Being warm feels like being near Reyna and being near Will. 

I’m sitting on the floor of my cabin at the foot of my bed. It’s always cold as balls in here; figures for a glorified shrine to the King of the Dead that I just happen to sleep in. I hardly even notice the chills going up and down my spine because Will Solace is sitting next to me. 

He is playing Minecraft egg wars on his old DS3 and frantically narrating the game’s events to me. Every time he lets slip a curse word when describing his opponents he quickly adds, “Pardon.” I’m busy studying every detail of him and burying myself in them. 

Another player with an anime skin kills Will with an iron sword. He stands up with his hands behind his head, yelling, “Fucking ten-year-olds! Pardon. Fucking ten-year-old bastards. Pardon.”

“You don’t have to apologize whenever you swear,” I say, but I like it when he does; his voice lilts when he excuses himself.

“Well, you can blame my Southern manners for that,” he huffs, throwing himself back down on the ground next to me. His cheeks are blotchy, blush clouded around freckles.

“These ‘Southern manners’ of yours make you too nice.”

Will scoffs at me. “They do _not._ I just cussed out ten-year-olds!” 

“You just let ten-year-olds beat you in a keep-away game.”

“Now, hold on,” he pokes my nose. “I didn’t _let_ ten-year-olds beat me. I just suck.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I flick his forehead to retaliate.

“You could stand to adopt some Southern manners yourself, di Angelo.” Will slides onto his back, resting his head in my lap. 

“Nah, I’ll stick with the Italian laws of ‘fuck you’ and ‘fuck off’, please,” I reply. The way Will is staring at me and grinning like an idiot is very distracting from our witty banter. It’s fun to argue with him, although I will have to admit that kissing him is a pretty close second.

Will scrunches his nose, which is obnoxious. I think I might kiss his nose. “My bad, I forgot you have to always be so very edgy,” he remarks.

“That’s a compliment,” I say, and he smiles wider. He has a dimple in the left cheek, but not the right. I think I might kiss that dimple. Will reaches around and finds my hand. He grips it tightly. I can still feel how warm his skin is through the Ace bandage wound around his palm. It’s fucking cathartic.

“Affection? What do you think you’re doing, Solace?” I say, because he’s right, I do have to always be so very edgy.

“‘S okay?” he says quietly. What I had said was a joke, but he always checks with me anyway. Which I appreciate. I’m not a huge fan of being touched. I nod, and Will curls into my torso, still clutching my hand. Will Solace is a little spoon. In case you were wondering.

I start to spin pieces of his hair around my fingers, shades of golden, pale, and dirty blonds on pasty olive. Will’s hair is a mop of limp, wiry waves that are sun-bleached to oblivion on the top layers even though he’s usually inside, working the infirmary. Apollo kid struggles, I guess. I trace the constellations of freckles and pimples on his forehead. That’s cliche and very corny, however, Will is very corny and he’s made me realize that corniness is pretty endearing. Except when it’s wearing a pair of M&Ms-patterned boxers for a week. 

The heat radiating from his skin flows into my body through my fingertips and makes my mouth taste too hot and my browline bead with sweat. I barely care.

“You’re pretty,” he says softly, the subtle lilt audible in his words. He’s told me that before but it still takes me by surprise. Although I don’t agree with this opinion of his, it’s nice to hear. Especially from someone as pretty as him. 

“You’re kind of beautiful, Solace,” I reply. I fixate on the corners of Will’s eyes and the patterns of wrinkles that have appeared with his smile.

“What are you up to, you wacky little dude?” he says, tilting his head in my lap. “Being all cute n’ affectionate?”

“I can be cute and affectionate if I want to,” 

Will’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m telling Piper you said that, di Angelo. Let’s see how your Oh So Edgy reputation survives,” He sits up to face me and rubs his hand into my hair. I scramble to wave his hands away and pat my hair back down.

“Go ahead, she’ll never believe you. My Oh So Edgy reputation is pretty solid.” 

Will pecks my lips, very lightly, and I’m on fire. “Yes, Nico, you are super scary and dark and brooding. Must be why your face is a million degrees.”

I scoff, but I don’t argue with him. I just cling to his shirt and let him kiss my mouth and run his thumb up and down my jaw. He might give me a fucking heat stroke. Worth it.

“You make me happy, Nico,” Will mutters, and I think maybe being warm could be my new normal.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hey shawty donate to the okra project to support black trans lives https://www.theokraproject.com/


End file.
